by J. M. Dabney
I am on him the rest of the night—he looked at Scary to see his friend agree.
To be honest this wasn’t the place for Elijah and the Twirled crew bringing him here a mistake. He headed back to the main room with Scary close on his heels and the proof this place wasn’t for Elijah was trying to talk Elijah into coming out onto the dance floor. Elijah kept saying no and the crew told the man to get lost—not exactly working. His man met his gaze and rolled his eyes. Tank slipped between the asshole and the table, placed his hands on man’s chest, pushing him a few feet away.
“What? You claimed that pretty piece of ass? There’s enough of him to share.”
“Get to walking, motherfucker, you don’t want to take either of us on.” Scary stepped to Tank’s side, he moved a step to the right. They formed a wall in front of Elijah and Tank instantly knew this fucker was going to lose teeth. He’d worked this job long enough to anticipate trouble and the drunk bastard in front of him qualified.
“He must suck a mean—”
Tank cut the statement short with one punch and the fucker crumbled to the floor.
“Damn, is he still alive,” Brody asked with maniacal laughter breaking up the question into choppy syllables.
Scary’s gruff laugh came from his left and a rough hand smacked him on the back. “If he fucking opens his mouth one more time he’ll wish he wasn’t,” Scary answered for Tank.
A strange sense of satisfaction made him smile as he watched the guy’s friends rush forward to drag him away. The three of them didn’t make eye contact while they carried their friend toward the door. Tank turned to check on Elijah—Did you get your coffee?
“Yes, but Brody keeps trying to make me drink,” the little imp had mirth in his eyes when Brody’s eyes went wide with horror.
Tank turned to Brody and the man’s already pale skin turned ashen.
“I did not, he’s trying to get me in trouble.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to switch, baby?”
“That’s not what I meant, Trouble.”
The Twirled Crew was fucking insane. He knew this conversation would dissolve into a clusterfuck of sexual innuendo and insults at any moment. He wasn’t a prude about sex, far from it, but these guys could make a whore blush.
“Trouble bottomed once and I think he was trying to find his happy place through the whole fucking thing.”
“Lucky, motherfucker, don’t you keep anything to yourself?”
“Sure, but we’ve heard about your unimpressive mini-peen for years, what the fuck makes you shy now?”
“My mostly virginal ass is no one’s business but my man’s.”
“Dude, you were more concerned about them knowing about your used ass, but couldn’t fucking defend the shrimp wearing a turtleneck in your pants.”
Tank nearly choked, but went into bouncer mode and grabbed Trouble by the back of his shirt. Tank forced him back into his seat. Lucky hadn’t even moved when the bulkier man was coming for him. He just set there with his body appearing to lean forward casually, but Tank noticed it if no one else did. Lucky tilted slightly in front of Priest—protecting him. Priest’s shoulders shook as he snorted laughter with his forehead on Lucky’s back. Lucky looked proud of himself.
“Tank won’t always be here, Lucky, you better learn to sleep with one eye open.”
“Fuck you, man, you’d miss my asshole tendencies too much to kill me, besides you can’t deny the truth.”
“I’ll have you know he’s hung like a fucking horse.”
Elijah choked on his coffee and covered his mouth.
“What kind, one of those freaky mini-horses?”
Tank looked across the expanse of the table at Elijah and nodded towards the bar. What happened next shocked the fuck right out of him.
Elijah stood on the seat, grabbed his coffee and casually walked across the table. Tank gave a small grin as he wrapped his hands around Elijah’s small waist and lifted him down. The smaller man slipped his arm through Tank’s and he led them towards the bar to get out of the line of fire. He looked back once to find Scary watching them with an almost sad, contemplative look on his face. Maybe the answer wouldn’t be no after all.
5 ELIJAH HAS MADE A HORRIBLE MISTAKE
“A shot for a shot, first to puke loses,” Zerk bellied up to the bar in Scary’s basement. The challenge in his eyes as he glared down Lucky was amusing.
Lucky definitely couldn’t take much more. The man’s eyes were already glassy from the last round he’d won against Priest who was laid flat atop one of the two pool tables in Scary’s Man Cave praying for the world to stop spinning. Poor man, Elijah shook his head and sipped his coffee.
“I call this one, Lucky won’t make it two more shots,” He spoke up and earned a dark scowl which would have intimidated him if Lucky wasn’t holding one eye closed like he was picking which Elijah to glare at.
Priest pumped his fist into the air. “Ya get ‘em, baby, oh fuck, we having an urthquake,” Priest groaned and reached out to grab the sides of the table. “Make it stop,” Priest’s squeal could shatter glass.
Elijah chuckled and earned a cute little growl/purr hybrid from Lucky.
“As the only fucking sober one around here it ain’t funny making fun of the lightweights,” Scary whispered in his ear.
He almost jumped out his skin, but caught himself before he flinched. He found himself trapped between two massive bodies. His shoulders tightly pressed to Scary and Tank’s biceps. He found himself too aware of his lack of height and bulk, yet he didn’t feel uncomfortable or afraid. In the past week the casual acquaintance shifted between him and the two men, maybe not friendship but something close.
“I’m not making fun, and Lucky is a lightweight. I’m surprised he’s making it to the next bracket.”
Loud, piteous moans came from the pool table.
“Priest, if I have to replace the felt again I’m going to take the cost out of your ass.”
“That’s my ass,” Lucky growled.
He wasn’t the only one giving Lucky a strange look. Well, that’s interesting, he thought and then Lucky and Zerk started throwing the shots back Trouble was pouring. One, two—it happened in slow motion, Lucky steadily tipped back as if the weight of his head dragged him backward.
“Man down,” He laughed and held out his hand and Landon placed a twenty on his palm.
“You bet against me,” Zerk’s offended tone drew an unapologetic and strangely innocent look from Landon.
“But, baby, with Lucky’s background I thought it was a sucker bet on Elijah’s part.”
“You placed a bet against Lucky,” Scary asked.
“Yea, Zerk has him by about a hundred pounds or more. Also, Lucky almost took a header off his stool before Zerk stepped up.”
“What are you going to do with your ill-gotten gains?”
“Don’t know, Mina—”
“Princess,” Everyone corrected.
“Yes, Princess wants a new helmet like yours and Tank’s so I thought I’d put it towards that, but of course she wants her Half-helmet with a base of hot pink under the skulls. You did the work, right?”
“Nope, that be Tank.”
He turned to find Tank watching him and he didn’t recognize the look in the man’s dark, forest green with their flecks of yellow. Tank’s face impassive and he caught himself before he reached to stroke his fingertips along the ragged scar. He was losing his mind. Was it just a week ago he’d fostered an idiotic crush on Scary? He couldn’t develop one on Tank too. Elijah probably already reached the point of no return in the crush on Tank department. Elijah was going to die a virgin and at the thought he dropped his chin to hide his frown.
Thick fingers with rough callouses slipped beneath his chin and tilted his head back up to meet Tank’s gaze. His coffee mug disappeared.
Tank removed his fingers and signed—ask me?
“Would you do—”
“You’re with me,” Brody swooped in and dragg
ed Elijah from his perch between the two men he couldn’t want.
Two hands gripped his hips, one was Scary and the other belonged to Tank. Two terrifying growls rumbled behind him before Brody pulled him farther away. He nearly tripped on the steps as his brother roughly hauled him upstairs and then quickly through the house to exit the back door.
“What the fuck is going on,” Brody barked out the question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was getting ready to ask Tank to paint a new helmet for Mina. She wants one like theirs.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then tell me because I’m clueless here.”
“Tank, and disturbingly enough Scary.”
He roughly pushed his hands through his hair and tugged the curls a bit. He was confused.
“Elijah, Scary brought the Brawler Crew to the rescue two weeks ago. Last weekend Head of Brawler Security is your personal bodyguard and now you’re all cozy between Scary and Tank. I know you’ve been thinking about being pounded by the inked bad boy, but are you going bigger and get reamed by a second dick?”
“Brody,” He didn’t bother hiding his hurt.
“Don’t Brody—”
“Brody,” Trouble’s pissed off voice came from the opened back door.
He’d never heard Trouble angry before especially not with Brody. Luckily it appeared no one else was with him. He would have died completely of embarrassment or made his Antarctica plans if Brody humiliated him in front of the group of people he wanted to consider friends.
“Trouble, he’s losing—”
“Your brother is a grown ass man, and what he does or who he does it with isn’t anyone’s business but him and his partner or partners.”
Elijah’s face caught fire at the mention of partners. Did everyone think he wanted both men? Did Brody let Elijah’s secret slip in front of Trouble?
“There’s no partners,” He squeaked.
“Elijah, go back inside. Everyone’s getting ready to pile up and watch the gory-fest. Tell them not to wait. I need to talk to Brody.”
“Elijah,” Brody called his name, but he didn’t turn around to face his brother.
“I just wanted one night without expectations, of living by someone else’s rules. Tank is a very nice guy. Scary and the Brawler Crew went above and beyond for Mina, and me too. I know I’m not like you and the guys, but I almost felt like a fit, even if it was for only a few minutes. Sorry I messed up and turned into a sudden disappointment.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and rushed back into the house, he wiped away the hurt he felt and plastered on that fake politician smile he’d become adept at over the last few years. He remembered his first night at Brawlers and the way Tank hadn’t treated him like the Mayor and Elijah didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t. Even Scary came to his defense, he’d finally felt like a part of the group he’d been jealous his brother belonged to since Elijah had met them. He had no delusions he would start anything with either Scary or Tank, but dammit for even five minutes he wanted to be one of the Crew. It wasn’t in the cards and he should’ve remembered it.
# # #
Summers in Powers, Georgia were always miserable, it was only the tail end of Spring and the temperatures were soaring, but the humidity was killer. Elijah couldn’t sleep because essentially he was in a cuddle pile surrounded by huge bodies putting out way too much body heat. He wanted his fan and his AC at 68. Landon turned over about twenty minutes ago and Zerk quickly followed, the heavy, hot arm rested over Landon and him. Who would have thought these frightening looking men would be snugglers?
He was going to have a heatstroke before morning and his day was going to suck. None of the guys had to be at work before noon or had to go in at all. His head was too full of Brody’s accusation.
During the movie, he’d set on the floor in front of one side of Scary’s enormous sectional. Scary and Tank once again plopped down on either side of him, their knees leaned against his shoulders. He’d swore at one point fingers played with his hair, but when he turned around they were both focused on the carnage on screen.
Maybe he shouldn’t have had those last five cups of coffee tonight. He wiggled his way out from under Zerk’s arm and away from Landon’s hands fisted in the back of his t-shirt. Turning his head, he found himself inches from Tank’s face, and if he leaned slightly his lips would almost touch the other man’s. He scrambled quickly to his feet and went in search of the bathroom.
He was losing whatever he had left of his mind. A year earlier Elijah had everything right on schedule, his life perfectly planned, but one inappropriate crush and now a second. He lost his balance.
Scary’s house wasn’t large. It was a newer remodeled house in an older neighborhood. Very bachelor chic, but Scary was surprisingly tidy—nothing out of place. He softly walked towards the hallway. A sliver of dim light shined through the tiny crack in a door at the end of the hall. He pushed it open slowly and froze in mortification at the sight of Scary naked, his covers pushed to the foot of the bed.
He could deal with a naked Scary, but the hand around a thick—Elijah tried to back away only to collide with someone. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was Tank. An arm moved around his waist and a hand the size of a baseball mitt splayed open on his stomach. His head perfectly tucked beneath the big man’s chin. His dick jumped at the closeness of Tank’s frame and the hard length pressing into his lower back.
His body started to shake. He didn’t know if it was shock or whatever but he couldn’t take his gaze away from the scene playing out before him. Scary loudly groaned from the bed and seemed to echo in the eerie quiet of the house. Scary pressed his feet flat on the bed as he pushed and pulled his pierced cock through his fist. He tried to look around but Tank’s hand took hold of his jaw and forced him to keep watching.
“Please don’t,” the pleading in his whispered words ignored by Tank.
Tank’s hand stroked down until the man’s pinkie stroked the head of his cock and his hips jerked. He must have made a sound loud enough to draw Scary’s attention because dark, glittering eyes pinned him. Instead of what he thought would happen—Scary yelling at him and flying from the bed, he continued to stroke his cock—faster and harder. Elijah’s breathing turned ragged.
He pushed back, trying to escape, but hips flexed and Tank’s cock rubbed against his back. Tank’s lips and teeth teased his ear. Elijah felt like his body was going to shake apart. Heat infused him and sweat dampened his forehead, started to make his clothes feel uncomfortable. The whole while Scary watched him. Scary and Tank stayed silent except for groans and animalistic rumbles.
Tank’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of Elijah’s pajamas and as the man completely cupped his dick, he nearly lost it, especially when Scary shouted Elijah’s name and white splattered the hair on Scary’s cut six-pack. Tank started to walk him into the bedroom and Elijah couldn’t breathe.
An overwhelming sense of humiliation caused him to fight and he spun out of Tank’s embrace. Whatever happened next was a blur, somehow he’d gathered his overnight bag, keys and phone. He found himself in his car speeding across town in the middle of the night. His heart pounded and his cock throbbed, his hands shook and tightened around the steering wheel.
Burning embarrassment mixed with desire to the degree he’d never felt before. They couldn’t want him, it was all a huge joke. But he couldn’t forget the fleeting moment he’d wanted to give in as Tank took him into Scary’s room.
Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he realized Brody was right, Elijah wanted both men and how pathetic did that make him?
6 THEIR BOY WAS ON THE RUN
Tank and he set on one of the couches in Twirled and propped their booted feet on the table. A few days ago things went a little off track. Okay, they’d veered into an oncoming semi. He hadn’t agreed aloud to Tank’s claim Elijah was theirs, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d fought his attraction for mo
nths and fuck, he grew tired of fighting.
Being a sharer wasn’t really in his damn nature. He and Tank had gone after the same piece of ass in the past, but never with the intention of keeping him or sharing.
Tank grunted to his attention and he looked towards him.
We fucked up.
“That’s the fucking truth.” It wasn’t the first time he jacked off to thoughts of Eli. Getting off for him was about releasing some tension. It wasn’t about picturing some cute man’s ass spread wide by his cock. “So, we getting our fucking boy or give up on this fucked up plan of ours?”
Do we have a plan—Tank signed.
Scary shook his head and turned away. Did the poor guy even know what they were thinking or was what happened just a fuck up? He knew Elijah wasn’t planning to catch him. Scary had let down his guard and surrendered to his favorite vision of Elijah bent over his desk, then Elijah was there for real. Tank behind Elijah and the two of them were sexy as fuck together. Elijah’s lips had parted as Tank grabbed his dick and the innocently sexy flush on the beautiful man’s cheeks set him off embarrassingly quick.
Trouble breezed through the door.
“Scary, Tank,” He greeted them, but didn’t look at them. He stopped in his tracks and turned toward them. “Okay, what the hell is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid because I sure as fuck know neither of you are.”
“He’s our boy. That’s all you fucking need to know.”
“I need to know more than that. He’s my brother-in-law. Brody ain’t happy with Elijah and they had a few words.”
“What did Brody do to Eli,” his voice deadly calm when he asked.
“Don’t use that threatening tone with me. We all know Eli’s had a bit of a crush on you for a while. Even though you tried to ignore it, it was kinda obvious, but this new thing with Tank, well, we’re worried about him. We don’t think Eli has any—”
“We know our boy—” Scary glanced at Tank to find the man smirking. “Is untouched.”